Shadows of Wychering

Chapter One - The Mission

The scroll bearing the seal of Margrave Pendry, Archon of the Order of Coelum, lay on her bed. The instructions were clear. Accompany the Furst Guards and Jame Dunrick to Wychering.

The morning sun lit the room through open lead-paned windows as curtains billowed and birds sang in nearby gardens. Lilac floated on the air, a clean scent that always brought a sense of calm. But, at this moment, it did little for Ameline Harsent. She stared into the electrum mirror at her mother's reflection.

A frown and furrowed brow brought creases across her mother's placid face.

"What is it, Mother? I have to hurry."

Her mother peered at her with penetrating hazel eyes. Ameline hated that look. She set the hairpins down and turned to face her mother.

Erwenna Harsent's dark hair, up in a tight ball on top of her head, gave her such an odd look that Ameline had to force away a grin.

"Sir Morgan Lasair, we expect him any minute. He expects to see you."

"What? Mother, no. I have been instructed to leave with Jame and the Furst Guards when they arrive. I have no time for Morgan Lasair." Ameline frowned.

"They can wait in the main hall, while you entertain Sir Morgan and that is the end of it. Get out of your riding clothes and into proper attire."

"Mother, wait, I—but Margrave, the scroll."

"No buts, you will do as you are told." Her mother turned and walked towards the door.

"Erwenna," Ameline called out hoping to irritate her mother but received a dismissive wave instead.

"Be quick, do not keep him waiting," her mother called back as she left the room.

"Why am I forced to entertain Morgan Lasair?" The door closed with a clunk. Ameline pulled the rest of the pins from her auburn hair and let it cascade down her shoulders.

The low thunder of hoof-beats sounded through her open window. She peered out to see Jame Dunrick, a mounted archer, and five of the Furst Guards riding up. Jame, in his black cloak, and brown jerkin, his long dark hair visible even with the hood up, dismounted. He was a fine man and her best friend.

He glanced up at her window, smiled and waved.

Glancing down at the small table beside the bed, her eyes fell on the pendant Jame had given her years ago, they had promised each other forever. Jame was not noble born and custom demanded she marry a noble. Ameline detested customs.

In a small act of defiance she slipped the pendant over her head, tucked it inside her dress and left the room.

Her mother met her in the hall, accompanied by her little sister, Cerella.

"He is here, in your father's study." She gave Ameline an approving look as she adjusted the silk at the cuffs of her pale blue dress.

Cerella snickered, her brown braided hair forever in her hands. "You look like a fancied cow."

Erwenna glared at Cerella. "She does not, now hush before I send you to muck the stables."

Ameline stuck her tongue out at her sister. "Why must I do this? I am not a throw-piece, Mother."

"I dare say I agree, you have been given your choice of suitors." Her mother arched an eyebrow. "I was not afforded such at your age. Alas, you have run them all off. I do not like the ways any more than you do, but it is the way of things. He has only come to call. Your father nor I will promise you. That is your choice, but you must choose among the nobles."